Pink
by Sylvera
Summary: #35 of my 100 Themes one-shot challenge. A father, a daughter, and time spent together.


The girl ducked away from the wooden sword, and quickly struck back at her opponent. She was beginning to tire, and her movements made this clear. Her blow was easily deflected and followed by a horizontal slice. It connected, knocking her off-guard. Before she knew it, her opponent's weapon was at her throat.

She pouted, and looked up at her father. "You just got lucky," she said, defensively.

"No, you let your guard down," she replied.

He dropped the practice sword, and smiled. "You're getting better, Lucina."

"You're still the best," Lucina muttered.

Chrom knelt down, and looked his daughter in the eye. "I've got field experience, and I've been practicing since I was your age. These skills take time to develop."

He walked over into the shade, and sat down on the stone tiles by a nearby building. Lucina ran after him and did the same. "Am I as good as you were when you were seven?" she questioned.

"Well, I can't really remember…" Chrom began.

Noticing Lucina's disappointment, he continued. "But to be honest, I think you might be better."

Lucina's face lit up. "Really?"

"Maybe. You're building up strength and speed, for one thing. It's a lot of work to keep up with you."

"It was true, at least partly. His daughter had a lot of talent, but she also had a lot of energy. Those two factors meant that training with her _did _tend to wear him out.

Lucina took a little while to reply to that. When she did, it was to change the subject. "Father, if you don't want people to fight, then why are you showing me how?" she asked.

Chrom took some time to pick his words before answering. "Lucina…I hope you never have to fight in a real battle. No one should have to go through that."

He took a deep breath, and continued. "But sometimes things don't go the way you want them to. If you do have to fight for your life, I want you to know how to win.

Lucina thought about that. "So it's just in case?" she asked.

"Exactly," confirmed Chrom.

A smile crept onto his face. "Besides, you seem to like these training sessions. You never seemed like the type who'd be happy with wearing pink frills and stitching flowers into handkerchiefs," he added.

Lucina frowned. "What's wrong with pink?"

"Nothing's wrong with pink. I wasn't really talking about colors here. I just meant – "

"I _like _pink," announced Lucina. "It's not my favorite, but I still like it.

"I didn't say you couldn't," said Chrom, correcting himself. "And I know you're not half bad with a needle and thread. But I also know that you like doing lots of things. If you were only allowed to be a dainty little lady, you'd probably go crazy."

He paused. "I didn't know you liked pink."

"I was wearing a pink blouse to yesterday's practice!" Lucina reminded him.

She had been, come to think of it. "Was it one of the ones that your mother bought you last week?" asked Chrom.

Lucina nodded. "Yeah. I like it, but I wish she'd let me go shopping with her."

Chrom said nothing. He knew that his wife had been wary of letting Lucina pick her own clothes – something about the Lucina from the future having the fashion sense of a circus clown. It was a little early to say whether the same was true about the girl in front of him. "Would you like to go with her next time?" he asked.

His daughter's face brightened. "Could I?"

"I'll let her know that you're interested."

Chrom stood up and motioned towards the training yard. "You ready for another round?" he offered.

Lucina smirked. "I'm ready, but I'm not sure you are."

"Oh, really? Why not?"

"Because your face is pinker than my blouse! You're still tired, aren't you?"

"Care to test that?" challenged Chrom.

"You bet!"

As the two of them headed back onto the field, Chrom realized that Lucina was right. He was a little bit tired. They'd been at it for a while, yes, but he was usually able to last longer. Maybe Lucina wasn't the only one who needed practice.

For a moment, that thought worried him. Things had been peaceful for many years, but if that changed, would he be able to defend Ylisse again? Even as the Exalt, he didn't think he'd be able to sit back and let others bear that burden alone.

His thoughts were interrupted before they could go further. "Father, I'm ready!" announced Lucina.

As he resumed the training session, the moment of concern felt farther and farther away. He'd deal with those issues if they became relevant, but right now they were just pointless what-ifs.

Right now, what mattered was giving his daughter the time together that the other Lucina never had. And if her idea of bonding was going at each other with wooden swords until they were both exhausted, then by the gods, that's what they'd do.

* * *

This was a hard theme to work with, and the end result was that the story doesn't have much to do with it. Still, I like how it turned out.


End file.
